Perhaps Love previously Falling in Love Again
by KatieAnn179
Summary: An unexpected visitor shows Ziva and Gibbs that dormant feelings and hidden passions should be revealed.
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes it's boring being dead. No need for nice restaurants, suntan lotion, books or credit cards. I look just the same as I did the day I died – well, apart from actually _being_ dead that is. Rather than sit around gossiping all day with various deceased relatives, or attending an art group run by Picasso, dress design class with Coco Chanel, or a lecture by Proust, I've decided to go back to work – back to NCIS. By the way, I'm Kate.

**NCIS HQ 0700hrs**

Gibbs is in. Now there's a surprise! If it wasn't for the fact that he smells faintly of sawdust, and _that_ comes from the boat he's still hand building in his basement, I'd swear he lived here 24/7. I wander over and look over his shoulder at what's on the screen. Nope, don't recognise this case; must be something new since I was last here. But then, it would be – I've been dead for what? Three years now? It doesn't seem that long. He looks the same – maybe the hair's a little greyer, but that's hardly surprising - DiNozzo has that effect on people.

My desk is (was?) beside his and its being used. Last time I was here – well, actually I was IN Autopsy – but last time I appeared in the bullpen was the day Ari shot me and I was asking Gibbs why I died. He didn't answer me then. He definitely won't answer me now, cause he believes I'm gone – as in completely, totally and utterly not here. But, I am here, and I've got something to tell him. Nothing earth-shattering – I've got no idea who'll win the World Series, the NFL play-offs, or the next election. Just want to tell him that I miss him – well, that I miss him _and_ I know someone else loves him. I got this vibration a couple of months ago – just an infinitesimal 'feeling' that something was happening – a bit like goose bumps, but stronger. I knew where it was coming from, but I wanted to know who it was that was reacting this way. So, here I am, trying to find out who it is that loves Gibbs.

NCIS looks pretty much the same as it did. A few more posters behind Tony's desk; more computer stuff stacked on Tim's. And my desk has a business card with "Ziva David" on it. She must be my replacement.

The lift doors ping and out walks a pretty brunette with brown eyes. Her "Good Morning Gibbs" is pleasantly accented, but not one I can't place. As she walks by me, it hits me. _She's_ the one. She loves him. Now, I'm dead, so technically I can't _feel_ anything – but there's a sense of something within me and I think it's a spark of jealousy. I envy her – or I would, if I could feel envy – because I felt the same way. It was totally unrequited love; he'd never have made a move and I was too in awe of him (ok as well as too shy and probably a bit too inexperienced as well) to press it; but there was some spark there. That much I am _positive_ about.

Ziva David (pronounced so Gibbs says as Dah-Veed) is roughly my height and weight, but younger. Long dark brown hair, chocolate coloured eyes, tanned skin – none of which are high on Gibbs' want list. He prefers sophisticated red heads with good dress sense and oodles of sex appeal. Brunette field agents just aren't his type – worst luck. But I'm here to sort that little problem out. You see I've changed since I died – I've gone from NCIS Field Agent to Guardian Angel in one bound.

The good thing about being an angel is you can go anywhere – just think the place and you're there. Space Mountain at Walt Disney World? Top of the Eiffel Tower? DC on Inauguration Day? Taj Mahal on Valentine's Day? Edinburgh at New Year? No problem for me. But the place I need to be right now is where someone I love can sense me. I head for Forensics and Abby.

She's already in. The music's still at a deafening level as I stand by the sliding door. Abby's bopping along to it and suddenly she stops, turns and cocks her head to the side. She walks over and turns down the music, and is half-way back to her computer terminal when she turns again and says softly "Kate, is that you?" Now, here's the deal. Live people can't hear or see me; but I can make my presence felt in so many ways. As Abby's facing my general direction I can will the door open (well, if I can flip myself to Florida to ride Space Mountain – opening a door's a breeze) and I do. She sees there's no-one there and grins. "Been a long time. I've missed you. I got a note from your Mother thanking me for your birthday flowers, I hope you liked them."

I walk across to her and take her hand. She looks down, a little startled as to why her fingers have suddenly become cooler and even though I know she can't hear I say "Thanks Abby for remembering me. Lily of the Valley was always my favourites." She turns her head and looks directly into my eyes and smiles softly. "You're welcome Kate" is her quiet response. I'm stunned into silence.

The lab door slides open and there stands Tony. He's still as nattily dressed as ever, still as handsome (though I'd never told him that!) and the trademark grin still in place. His hand is bandaged and Abby hugs him gently and kisses his cheek. "How are the ribs? Getting better?"

"Yes. I can now breathe without my eyes watering and my hand's better too. I think Gibbs has just about forgiven me, though maybe he hasn't. I can't tell the difference between his good moods and bad ..."

"Oh that's easy" replies Abbs "he kisses when he's in a good mood and scowls when he's in a bad one".

"Not likely he'd kiss me".

"Who would kiss who DiNozzo?" Gibbs appears wraith-like behind both of them.

Tony looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights! It's so funny I actually laugh and Abby turns herself towards me again. For a second I wonder if she _can_ hear me … or maybe she can sense me?

"Em, you Boss. Abbs said you kiss her when you're in a good mood and scowl at her when you're in a bad one. Personally, I've never seen you in a bad mood with her. Sure, I've seen you kiss her plenty times, in a platonic, non-threatening, kinda milkshake way …." He was babbling and he knew it. The more he babbled the higher Gibbs eyebrows went. This is just too funny!! I _must_ hear how he gets out of this!

"Well" said Gibbs, patting his cheek gently "if you want me to kiss _you_ DiNozzo, all you have to do is ask".

Abby whoops with laughter and promptly starts singing "Gibbs and Tony sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G …"

"I'm in a good mood _now_ Abby, but it can change" he warns her.

"Aw Gibbs, here was me wondering if I could be Godmother to your expected Tibblets!" I could teach them all kid of cool things like …"

A raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest and the patented "Gibbs stare" stop Abby's rambling chain of thought.

"DiNozzo, upstairs. Abbs, back to what you were doing. Now!"

Abby pouts at him (only she could get away with _that_) and turns back to her computer. DiNozzo follows Gibbs out and she hears the lift ping.

"Looks like it's just us Kate" she says, turning to face me. "You're still looking great by the way."

OMG! (We don't say that out loud where I come from) She can see _and_ hear me!!!!

**ABBY'S LAB, 0800hrs**

"Abby, you can see me??" I can't keep the incredulity out of my voice.

"Yep. And obviously I can hear you as well. But I'm probably the only person in the building who can. We all still miss you and it's nice to see you again. Can you stay for a bit?" Abby's tone is conversational and light – obviously talking to dead people isn't new to her.

My expression must speak volumes and my confusion is obvious to her.

"I would sometimes talk to Grandma Scuito. Occasionally Grandpa would visit and he'd bring Mr Sorensen who'd lived next door. Mr Sorensen used to give me peppermint sweets when I was a kid – and I always think of him when I see those red and white striped balls wrapped in cellophane. Haven't seen any of them for a while though. Maybe they've finally gone over?" So, she knows what happens. After death, we're really only permitted to stay around to tidy things up, make sure our relatives are recovering from us dying, then we move on. Except for me. I got sidetracked into the whole Guardian Angel bit and although I no longer wear a gun and carry a badge, the job description's pretty similar. Protect, protect, protect. Do all you can to ensure that your charges safe; don't step on the toes of other Angels in the area; do not, under any circumstances, intervene with Death (he can severely injure or even kill an Angel if he feels the intervention is unwarranted); God (aka The Boss) is never, ever wrong – he knows best - always.

I knew Abby would understand. Somehow being dead doesn't seem so final now that she can see me. I hope The Boss is ok with this; normally it requires a tiny bit of painless DNA tweaking to ensure that live humans can't see the dead. Most, if not all, would find it very unsettling and frightening to suddenly have Great Aunty Mary appear in the kitchen, plonk herself down on a chair and start complaining about her bunions aching – all this about 8 years after she'd died. Abby's obviously slipped through the net and I am so grateful for it.

"So" she asks "what are you doing back here? Trying to turn Tony into a human; helping Tim with his next book; making sure Gibbs doesn't set fire to his boat?"

"Nope. I'm here for Ziva."

"Ziva?" There's a slight note of panic in her voice. "She's not going to … I mean, she won't … It's going to be ok, isn't it? She's not _leaving_ us, is she?"

"No Abby. Ziva is not going to die. At least, not just now – it'll happen eventually, like with everyone. But she's ok for now. I'm here to help love along."

"Love? Who's she in love with? She's never mentioned a man? Oh hell … Oh my God! Am I allowed to say hell to an Angel? And I blasphemed too! Oh now that means I'm going to Fire Pit Numero Uno when I die. And I wanted to _**see**_ Grandma again …."

"Abby, Abby, _Abbs_!" I yell at her. "You're going nowhere. The Boss, well, my Boss knows people invoke his name all the time and although he's not thrilled about it, he does understand. But the bad language needs to be toned down. I'm here because Ziva loves someone; he doesn't know it yet, and he's not quite ready to accept the love. I have to open his eyes to her and the feelings he has that are buried deep. That's it. I can't weave a magic spell; I can't throw runes or read Tarot cards; all I can do is what I can do and nothing more. Either he accepts her love or he doesn't. I can't force it."

Abbs nods and says: "Can I ask who _he_ is, or make a guess?" I nod. She turns and types 3 words on the computer – silver haired fox flashes up on the plasma; I nod back to her, and she beams. The lab door slides open and a puzzled Ziva enters and looks around.

"Abby, whom were you speaking to? I heard you talking, but there's no-one here. Or is it some new computer software you have?"

"No Ziva, I'm talking to Kate. She's standing in front of Major Mass Spec. And we're discussing you."

Ziva pales and turns round, fully expecting me to materialise in front of her. I don't. But as she glances towards the door, I let her see my reflection and I can't resist a little wave. Full materialisation is awkward, but a reflection's easier to project. She stares at me, searching my face and her eyes travel all over me. I know she does not believe what she sees – so I mouth hello to her. She steps back against a table and says "hello" out loud. The lab door opens again and Gibbs comes in wearing a definitely un-amused expression and _not_ carrying Caf-Pow! He looks at Abby who's beaming at Ziva, then looks at Ziva, who's staring at the door. His eyebrows raise and Abby offers an explanation.

"Kate's here! Isn't it great Gibbs! What, no Caf-Pow? You know I can't work without one at my side. Kate, Kate, say hi to Gibbs." She turns to him and adds "I've already introduced her to Ziva." Gibbs looks at Abby, then Ziva. He's obviously lost in here amongst these delusional, demented women. So, taking a deep breath (even though I really don't need it) I make myself fully materialise in front of Major Mass Spec. Gibbs' eyes almost pop out, Abby bounces on her toes and Ziva faints for the first time in her life.

"Hello Jethro (I almost call him Boss – but that's reserved for someone else now) it's nice to see you again."

Then Ducky arrives.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Ducky sees is a prone Ziva. He's bending down attending to her when his eyes flick up and he sees me. He turns pale and sits down heavily on the floor, confused. He spends the next few minutes staring – just staring. Ziva moans slightly and it seems to stir him into action. This galvanises Gibbs who lifts Ziva from the lab floor and places her on a chair. Then he helps Ducky up. In the meantime, Abbs has phoned Tony and told him to get his butt down to the lab and drag McGee with him – pronto.

There's silence – freezing cold, all encompassing silence until Tim walks through the door with Tony on his heels. Both look immediately to Gibbs, who silently points at me. Both look at me, but don't see me. Well, they **see** me, but they don't believe it. It's only when I walk over and touch Tony's face that it sinks in. I am real, albeit for a very short space of time. Tim is swaying on his feet and Abby, by now positively fizzing with delight, takes pity on him and leans him against the big fridge.

"Kate??" Tony finds a voice. It's not his; it's all gravelly and thick, like he's going to cry; "It's nice to see you ….." his voice trails off into nothing and he stares at the floor. Ziva stands up and slowly walks towards me. She stretches out her hands and I take them. Her brown eyes solemnly regard mine. "I never believed in ghosts" she says "I may have to rethink that. Why are you here?"

"I'm here to help solve a problem that's affecting two of you. I can't say more except to the people involved. I can only keep this form for a few minutes because you're all here; at least the people who surrounded me when I died are, and I need your energy to help make me this way, well, make me real. But now that you know I _am_ here I have to go. Believe it or not there are a few things about this scenario that are hinky (Abby smiles at this) and I need to speak to someone else before I can proceed. So, to quote a movie: I'll be back."

With that, my form fades until there's nothing there. But I hear Tony's voice: "Something _here_ is hinky?? What the hell does that mean? I walk in here and find a dead woman leaning against a mass spectrometer talking with my colleagues – Jesus Christ! Is it just me or can anyone else here the theme from The Twilight Zone playing??

"Tony, mind your language!" He looks at her, puzzled. She leans in and in a stage whisper says; "If Kate can hear you say J.C – just imagine what her Boss can hear"?

Looking down from my perch in the corner of the room I can't help but smile. Of course my immediate boss can hear Tony. He can also make himself heard by me – and right now he's not too pleased. Connecting with the living is one thing and permitted only infrequently. Materialising in front of them, using precious energy from Upstairs as well as a teeny, tiny amount of love from the living, well, that's a big no-no, unless it's by permission of The Boss (also knows as God). I can hear the second warning from On High coming through and I _know_ I'm going to have some explaining to do, but before I go there is one thing I _must_ do. Descending from the corner of the room, I stand beside Tony and project the words "silk boxers" quietly into his head. He turns pale, then red and sinks down to the floor muttering obscenities. Sometimes there are unexpected benefits to being an angel!

I'm outside the boss's office – no, not _that_ Boss – and I knock on the door. A quiet "enter" is said and the door dissolves to allow me in, then re-forms behind me. Sitting in an armchair in front of a picture window overlooking a stunning frozen Canadian lake is Boss No. 2. He's an Archangel and, yes, his name _is_ Gabriel. And right now he's not a happy entity. Another armchair materialises beside him and he indicates I should be seated.

"Caitlin. How often have I told you about visiting friends, and how many times do I have to tell you that materialisation is not allowed without prior permission?" He waits patiently for my answer.

"About 30 times?"

"Actually, it's 47. You can't keep popping in and out of their lives – even if they are not aware of your presence. I know you miss them, but you're here now. I've spoken to The Boss and he is going to let you run with this; but when your job's over you won't be allowed back to Earth for 2 years." My mouth pops with surprise.

"2 years!" I squeak. "But that's, that's …"

"Forever?" is the half-amused reply. "We both know it's not Caitlin and it'll give you enough time for reflection."

Two years without visiting my parents, my brothers and sisters-in-law, my nephews and nieces; two years without quietly kissing them as they sleep; two years without helping them find missing keys or missing mittens. Two years of not soothing broken hearts and dashed dreams. Two years of Christmas without them. Angels don't cry, but this one is perilously close.

"You must understand Caitlin", says Gabriel "that _they_ have to let _you_ go just as much as _you_ must take your leave of _them_. I know it's hard; I know how much you love them. But life went on after you died and they found a way to keep going without you. And you're existence here will be for a long, long time too. You must get used to it sometime."

I nod miserably, swallowing unshed tears and whisper my understanding and agreement.

Gabriel smiles indulgently and pats my hand.

"But remember Kate, just because you can't _visit_ them doesn't necessarily mean you can't _see_ them occasionally." He moves his hand and the Canadian lake disappears – in its place is the bullpen. Tony's standing staring out of the window; Tim's typing furiously, Ziva is praying quietly in Hebrew and Gibbs is at his desk, drinking coffee. The scene changes to the lab and Abby is busy testing samples. She fades out and is replaced by Ducky in autopsy. Thankfully, he has no clients and is sitting quietly enjoying a cup of tea. Jimmy Palmer is stocking the supply cupboard and everything seems so _normal_. The words "I miss you all" flash through my head and Gabriel turns surprised eyes to mine.

"Caitlin, don't go there. Don't miss them too much. It'll be all the more painful when final farewells have to be said. They've managed to cope without you once before, don't put them through the heartbreak and misery of missing you a second time. You can help Gibbs find Ziva and that is it. You must come back here afterwards and leave them in peace. If you can't do that, I will assign another Guardian in your place." His voice while stern has a sympathetic edge to it. Compared to him I'm so recently dead that it's all still new and unusual for me. But I will obey him. I really have no choice.

"So" he continues "carry on with your assignment. And to keep you from re-materialising at will, The Boss has sent this." He hands me a plain piece of vellum. As soon as I touch it, writing appears. It says I have permission to re-materialise twice more and if I try a third time I will be summoned back. Twice more, that's it. I know I'll have to plan it carefully. Gabriel hands me his feather quill and I sign my name at the bottom of the vellum. It instantly disappears from my hands and will reappear in His Presence where it _will_ be read.

Both armchairs have disappeared and Gabriel and I are standing in what's called the Long Corridor. It's just that – a corridor that's very, very long. There are doors approximately every 50 metres on each side and lead to, well, wherever you want to go. He pats my shoulder encouragingly and disappears.

I open the first door I come to, step through, and am in Gibbs' basement. It's a bit gloomy, and smells of sawdust and bourbon, and I can hear the sound of sandpaper on wood. He's not alone. Tony is sitting on the steps, watching him. Upstairs I can hear Abby talking and Tim replying. Then Ziva appears at the top of the stairs and announces that pizza has arrived. They troop upstairs to the kitchen. And irrationally I don't want to be there. I don't want to hear them discuss a recent case that I'm not involved with. Suddenly I want to be _back with them_. Knowing that they've carried on without me, knowing that there's no more DiNozzo practical jokes, rubber band wars and food fights, knowing that I'm still loved and missed and suddenly feeling, yes, _actually feeling_ the pain of my losing _them_ is too much. And, for the first time in several centuries, an Angel weeps.


	3. Chapter 3

Angels weeping is unheard. In fact it's so rare that Gabriel makes an appearance by my side. Taking me gently by the elbow he opens the door back to the Long Corridor and leads me out. I stand there, surrounded by nothing, tears tracking down my face and I feel my un-beating heart break.

"I can't do this" I say "I can't be with them. I thought I could, but it's too painful seeing them go on without me. I want to be reassigned."

Gabriel sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Kate, you've visited your family and friends almost weekly since your death and never, ever have I seen you weep for them. Now, you spend barely 3 hours in and around former work colleagues and you're asking to be reassigned? What you need is to tap into something you already have, and have had for many years – your courage. I never said this would be an easy assignment, but re-materialising brings pain as well as pleasure. You let in the feelings you lost when your heart stopped beating; now you have to deal with them because no matter how very briefly, you were technically alive again. Part of you understands this which is why you never materialised when you went home. But, when you touched Abby you were still an Angel so she only felt coolness touch her; with Tony he felt warmth, the warmth that you had when you were alive. He'll remember that touch for the rest of his life. So now you must gather the courage you have, hold it inside you and go back to finish this. It's the only way you'll learn to become a good Guardian Angel. Remember, these are people you know and love; unwittingly they'll help you along – well, at least Abby will." And with that he turns, opens the door again and gently pushes me through. I'm back in Gibbs' basement and it's quiet and empty. In the few short minutes I've spent with Gabriel the evening on Earth has passed and dawn is breaking. Sitting down on the basement steps I start to think. How do I get Gibbs to open up his heart and accept Ziva's love? And how do I get Ziva to admit what she feels for him? I briefly wish I'd been assigned something easier – like how to broker world peace. It has to be simpler than _this_.

I'm still sitting there when I hear Gibbs move around upstairs; so I head up towards the kitchen where I know he will brew the first of many cups of his unspeakably awful coffee before heading for work.

He's sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in one hand and a photo in the other. I look over his shoulder and see it – it's one of me. It was obviously taken quickly from the staircase to MTAC and the vain part of me sighs deeply when I see awful how my hair looks. Then I check Gibbs' face. My heart lurches when I realise there are tears falling from his eyes. "Oh Kate, I'm sorry. I should have protected you from him and I couldn't. I failed you and now you're gone. I'm so, so sorry Katie." The tears fall silently, landing on the photo he's placed on the table. He looks so lost and lonely and I miss him dreadfully. I want to put my arms around him; want to hold him and say the words that'll make him feel better, but I know I can't. He will feel only coolness on his skin and it won't relieve his pain. Only time will heal him – time and love from another. I desperately want to re-materialise, to put my arms around him, to feel the heartbeat inside his chest, but I know I cannot. I project the words into his head; the words I wanted to say whilst I was alive but couldn't – "I love you Jethro, I did from the first day. But listen now. Someone else loves you, someone real, living, breathing and close by you. Remember the love you felt before, accept it again, this time it _will_ be different."

He holds tightly to the table top, struggling to comprehend the words inside his head. He knows it's my voice but he doesn't believe I'm there. He looks down at my photograph, and with a wave of my hand I change it – and Ziva's face replaces mine. His eyes widen in shock and he gets up so quickly that the chair tips backwards and crashes to the floor; he races for the door grabbing keys, jacket and cell phone as he goes. Still standing in the kitchen I hear the car engine roar into life as it rockets off the drive. This morning has not started well.

I spend most of the day in and around the bullpen watching them work and following them out to a crime scene. I smile at Ziva's mangling of the English language but I note that Gibbs is determined not to be alone with her. She notices he's avoiding her but can't fathom why. Tony and Tim are still the usual brattish brothers – constantly trying to please 'Papa' Gibbs with their childish antics and constant one-upmanship. Jimmy, who's heard the story first-hand from Abby, is desperate for more information about my reappearance, but Ducky is either snappy or morosely silent. Eventually only Ziva and Gibbs are left in the bullpen and she confronts him but he suspecting (correctly) that I am still around, refuses to say anything other than 'yes' or 'no'. Finally, she loses patience, says an abrupt "Good night Gibbs" and leaves. He sits there alone, staring at his computer screen and cursing under his breath. He stands up, snaps off the light and says loudly "Kate, go home." I do, but it's to Ziva's home I go.

Her apartment is nice. The sofas are comfortable, the décor is light and pleasant, even the lamps are pretty. She's sitting there wrapped in a quilt staring into space when I arrive. A few seconds later she untangles herself from the quilt, reaches over to the table and grabs a handful of tissues and furiously scrubs at her eyes. She can hide her tears from her friends but she can't hide them from me and I know what she's going through. And, to use an Earth expression, she has it bad. Gibbs made it patently clear to me that Rule 12 was Rule 12 and he wouldn't break it. But now that he knows someone is waiting for him, he's going to have to reconsider. He's worked with Ziva longer than with me; her brother was responsible for my death; and she was responsible for his (though officially it was Gibbs who killed Ari); this is involved and complicated but it can be fixed. First thing I have to do is make sure she sees me. She's back on the sofa wrapped in her quilt and staring morosely into space when something catches the side of her eye. She turns her head to the window and sees me looking back at her. Her eyes are wide with shock.

"Ziva, please don't look away. It's the only way I have of communicating with anyone now. Please talk to me."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Gibbs."

"Why him?"

"Because you love him."

She regards me silently, her eyes filling with tears.

"I don't want to talk about _him_."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice. You see, I know how you feel about him. I also know that given time and help he'll feel the same way about you. He loved Shannon and Kelly, truly loved them. But his other wives – well, he did love them, but not with his heart _and_ soul. He's forgotten that depth of love. You're the one who's going to show him how to live and love again. It won't be easy but you'll do it. And I'm here to help."

"Why?"

"I loved him too." There, I said it aloud! The Earth didn't disintegrate; no tsunamis struck, civilisation didn't crumble and fall. I admitted to a human being that in my life I'd fallen in love with someone. It felt good and sad all at the same time.

Ziva simply says "I know". We both stare at each other for a few minutes, wondering how to start a conversation on what it is we love about the same man. Eventually she says: "I know how I feel, and it frightens me. I've felt lust before, definitely longing, and a physical need too – but love is something that's eluded me. He'll throw every objection my way that he can – he's older, his marriages, Rule 12 (she rolls her eyes at that). Then there's my father – he's bound to object on all of the above grounds and a few more to add in – but religion being the main one. It seems everything's already against us and we haven't even been on a date." Her voice and body language scream morose and unhappy, but suddenly an idea springs to mind.

"Well Ziva, what we need is help from another quarter."

She looks at me quizzically. "You mean … higher up?"

"Nope. Earth bound actually. What we need is a Medical Examiner and a Forensic Scientist."

"Ducky and Abby? How are they going to help?"

"Easy. They are going to lead by example."

Ziva's eyebrows raise so much they practically disappear off her face.

"You mean Ducky and Abby are _together_???"

I nod, grinning widely. "They have been for a several months now. It started just after he lost his mother – it's been fairly slow burning, but things have, em, progressed rapidly in the last few months. And, if you can keep a secret Ziva, there's going to be another reason soon for them to be even happier."

She looks at me with a puzzled expression which slowly changes as the words sink in and reality dawns. "Abby's pregnant?"

"Yes, but only by a few weeks, so say nothing. She hasn't told Ducky yet…"

Ziva's eyes sparkle and she smiles widely. "So there's hope, then".

"Oh Ziva, when you have God's love there is always hope. When you have an Angel's help there's always a good outcome. And when you have Abigail Scuito, and a pregnant Abigail Scuito at that on your team – poor Gibbs is a goner."

We both find the prospect two senior members of NCIS staff being completely floored by events outwith their control hysterical and we're laughing so hard that I actually ache and Ziva falls off the sofa.


	4. Chapter 4

Next morning Ziva arrived before Gibbs. She sat in the silent bullpen wondering what the day would bring, hoping that he'd say _something_ to her – something other than "gear up" or "David, sketch and shoot". He could try "I love the way you laugh" or maybe "Your hair is beautiful". Oh stop it! He wouldn't say that out loud if you _were_ dating, so what's the chance that he'll say it merely in passing? About as likely as picking the winning Lottery ticket for the next 5 consecutive draws. The lift pinged and her stomach dropped to her shoes. She half stood and saw Abby. Abby - smiling, happy, joyful, pregnant, Abby! Ziva watched her … yep, definitely could see the "glow". Abby halted in front of her friend and grinned wickedly. "No Gibbs yet?"

"Not yet. Maybe he stopped for coffee or a Caf-Pow!?"

"I'm right off them just now" Abby said. "Can't bear the taste. It's really weird. Usually drink 8 a day and suddenly – yeuch!"

"Is there a reason for this sudden dietary change"? Ziva was trying to sound innocent, but failing.

Abby cocked her head to the side and said softly "You've been speaking to Kate! There is a reason and now you know it. I'm just gathering courage to tell Ducky. Don't spill the story to the others Ziva. I want Ducky to be the "first" to know. And, when it's formally announced you'll have to act surprised, ok?"

"I will be extremely surprised, I promise."

Abby hugged her briefly, turned and headed back to the lift. She stepped on as Gibbs stepped off. "Oh God", he thought, "I'm alone with Ziva".

Ziva smiled at him, said a bright good morning, and settled down to her desk. Computer on, printer on, gun in drawer, bullets beside them – check. Now, remember to breathe, do not blush, do not stammer or indulge in frivolous conversation. Just get on with the report you are writing and forget that he's there. Forget the sawdust and coffee smell, forget the lop-sided grin that makes your heart beat faster, forget the completely sexy way he sounds when he growls at someone, forget the guiding hand on the small of her back ……. "I am going for coffee Gibbs. Would you like one?" her voice sounded high-pitched and squeaky.

He didn't look up but replied "I'm fine thanks. Brought one in with me."

"Ah good. Then I shall go and get mine." Ok, voice sounded better – more like Ziva less like Minnie Mouse.

Ziva disappeared to the lift and Gibbs heaves a deep sigh of relief. Sitting on the stairs to MTAC, I put my head in my hands and groan – loudly.

Downstairs in Autopsy Ducky is listening carefully as Abby skirts all the way round the information she's trying to impart. Eventually, he silences her by placing a finger over her lips. His eyes shine as he takes her gently in his arms and kisses her spider web tat. "Abigail, are you trying to tell me you are pregnant?" "Yes, but I didn't know how to. I mean, I didn't know if you wanted to be a father and me … well, I never thought about parenthood. I know the _consequences_ of what we do … but, well, you know, I didn't _think_ about the consequences. Will I be a good Mum? Will you be a good Dad – well, of course you will be cause you're brilliant with kids. But me? I can be a bit flaky at times, but please, please, Ducky, say you're happy."

Ducky stepped back and looked deeply into her sea green eyes. "Happy is too small a word for what I feel my darling. It's far too small a word. But I am happy; I am thrilled, delighted, amazed, and grateful. I also think we need to tell our friends."

"They're going to be really surprised Donald" Abby uses his given name for the first time. She smiles at him as she says it and he laughs. "My mother called me Donald. It used to make me feel old. Now it makes me feel …" He's not sure _how_ it makes him feel, but he knows he likes the sensation. Taking her by the hand he walks her to the lift.

I'm still sitting on the stair, still watching Gibbs wrestling with himself as both Tony and Tim arrive. Tony's in full flow and feeling very upbeat. The bandage is finally off his hand, his ribs don't hurt any more and he's chafing to get back to 'real work' as he calls it. Gibbs barks "you're late" at both of his agents. Tony shoots Tim a look and goes into full charm mode: "Boss. Got the bandages off. See! I can now drive. Hope we get a call out today."

"If we do get a call out today" Gibbs grinds out "you're not driving the sedan till I say so. I'm not having you play chicken with the Fire Brigade again. The last car was totalled, you were 14 hours in hospital, the Director chewed _my_ ass out for the car wreck and _I_ had to apologise to Chief Martin on your behalf. You'll be sitting in the back, seatbelt fastened, paying attention. If you so much as blink out of turn I'll handcuff you to the desk for 3 months."

Tony stares at him. He's been chewed out before, but this time is worse because it's in front of Tim, a recently re-appeared Ziva and a grinning Abby, who has Ducky in tow. There's silence. Gibbs is in full anger mode and he knows it's 90 percent unjustified. He's sorry he's barking at Tony; sorrier still that others are there to witness his outburst; but he's worried and hiding it. Tony could have been killed – there is no such thing as an 'easy' car smash. He'd been cocky and self-assured of his driving skills and, if Gibbs thinks rationally for a minute, he'd have been ok if it wasn't for the oil slick on the road. But he's not being rational – he's angry, pissed off, and fighting an emotion that has no connection to Tony, cars, bandages or fractured ribs. It's all to do with a changing photograph and the words of a dead friend.

"Anybody want to hear some good news" chimes Abby. The Tony situation was getting way too heavy and serious and good news would cheer everyone up.

Gibbs raises his head and nods "Sure Abbs, what is it?"

"Ducky and I are having a baby!"

"Oh no, Major Mass Spec has cross fertilised with that gas chromato-whatchamacallit and we're having new machinery" quips Tony.

Abby swivels towards him and says very quietly "No Tony. Ducky and I are having a baby – a real, human, ten fingers, ten toes baby. This is not a joke, figment of your imagination, or story I made up to give you a comical moment." Her voice is wobbling and she looks like she's going to cry.

"Congratulations!" Ziva puts her arms around Abby and kisses her. Then moves to Ducky and does the same.

Tony stands there open mouthed and Tim looks confused. Gibbs is silent, looking from one friend to another.

Abby turns and walks away. She takes the stairs to her lab, closes the doors behind her, puts on the latest Plastic Death CD at the loudest volume she can, sits at her desk and cries.

"Are you going to say something Jethro?" asks Ducky.

He remains mute, trying to get his head around this completely unexpected news.

A sad Ducky returns to the lab and tries to comfort a weeping Abby. He doesn't hear the music playing; all he hears is the sound of her tears. He thought their friends would be delighted for them. He thought they'd understand. He was wrong. And his heart is hurt, but mostly for Abby.

I'm sitting on the steps watching this nightmare unfold. Things are going from bad to worse and before it completely gets out of control I have to intervene. Now, this isn't well known, but Angels can freeze time. Not for an hour or so; just a few minutes. And we can only do it under special circumstances. This, it would seem, is a special circumstance. So, I rewind time for a few minutes. The scene will play out again – but this time with angelic intervention.

Tony and Tim arrive; Ziva's back, Abby and Ducky appear out of the lift. I stop time again and go round each individual person and say one word – happy – and then let time proceed.

There are hugs and kisses all round. Gibbs seems genuinely delighted that his two friends have found each other. Tony however is doing a wonderful impersonation of a goldfish – opening and closing his mouth while looking confused.

"How did ….."

"Tony, if you don't know by now how babies are made, I shall have Gibbs explain it to you in infinite detail" says Ducky. "Now, if you'll excuse us Abigail and I have some talking to do and I don't want her to be on her feet for too long. The first trimester can be difficult."

Abby beams and bounces on her toes. Ziva grins and turns away, colliding with Gibbs, who puts an arm round her waist to steady her. She smiles into his face and he grins back.

Abby looks towards me on the staircase and gives me double thumbs up behind Gibbs' back. I return the salute.

I hear the distant sound of a summons and regretfully leave. Gabriel awaits me and I think I know what he's going to say. I appear in front of his door and don't get time to knock before the familiar voice says "Come in Kate". The door disappears, I enter, and it reforms behind me. Gabriel is standing in front of the Canadian lake again and he turns. "_Angelic intervention_, I believe you called it. That's a new one on me. Rewinding time. Did you really think I wouldn't know?"

I put on my (hopefully) most appealing expression and say: "A baby, Gabriel! A baby! What could be more joyful than that? They deserve to be happy, and have those they love be happy for them. I didn't break the rules! I love these people and they love each other too. A new life, just think how wonderful it'll be for them. Oh I wish …" I turn appealing eyes to his. My own motherhood ambitions were not to be; the next best thing would to be a witness to someone else's child growing.

"Well, I will overlook it this time, but _only this time _Caitlin. It seems that Ziva and Gibbs are on course for each other, without your _angelic intervention_ as you so quaintly call it. No more changing time, especially as Abby knows you're around and what you're capable of. You may return to them, but I'm keeping an eye on you."

Adopting a suitably chastened expression, which fooled no-one, I left his office and headed back to the Long Corridor and Gibbs' basement.

"Gabriel, you're getting soft" came a familiar voice.

"I know Lord, but sometimes love needs a nudge in the right direction" was the laughing response.


	5. Chapter 5

This situation seriously needs help. Walking, well floating actually, up the stairs of Gibbs' basement I go to the kitchen. He's back in the same chair as at breakfast, back looking at the photo. He runs his thumb over Ziva's face and his lop-sided grin briefly appears. But he puts the photo face down on the table and rises up, heading towards the basement. This time, he's not going to get there.

As he passes the window something catches his eye – and he finds himself face to face with an extremely pissed off Angel (yes, we do get that way, especially when our charges are being difficult or just plain dumb). His breath catches in his throat and he stares at me.

"Well, what are _you_ staring at? It's not the first time you've seen me."

He doesn't respond. He just slowly starts to wash out his coffee mug and empty the grains from the percolator.

"Are you going to _ignore_ me _Jeth-ro_ or are you going to be the adult you allegedly are, and speak to me?"

His head snaps up and his eyes are sad; he's struggling to keep control of his emotions. I've never seen anyone look so miserable and unhappy. After what seems like an hour, but is barely two minutes, he whispers: "Why are you here?"

"You know why; I've already told you."

"Ziva. You think I love her."

"I don't think you love her Jethro, I _know_ you do."

"How can I love her when I still love …" his voice trails off into nothingness.

"The same way you still loved them but remarried three more times after their deaths." Ok, totally brutal I know, but I fully intend to give this budding romance a good swift kick up the rear end to get it going.

He steps away from the window and heads down the hallway to the basement door. And, that makes me mad. If there's one thing I _hate_ it's being ignored. I hated it when I was alive I hate it even more now that I'm dead. It's just plain rude. So, in a fit of pique, temper, rudeness, anger and bad manners (yes, I still get that way too) I hurl his coffee percolator from the stove top to the floor, from the floor to the table, and from the table to the back of his head. Luckily (for him) he hears the commotion behind him and turns in time to hit the deck as his now ruined coffee pot bounces off the basement door and does a crazy version of the Macarena down the hall.

He walks to the front door, picks up the dented and battered pot and comes back to the kitchen. I'm still there, still fuming and staring at him from the window.

He puts the pot on the stove, turns round and hikes a hip onto the table.

"Ok, shoot" he says.

"Not a good thing to say to an Angel who died at the hand of a terrorist Gibbs."

"Aw, hell …."

"Oooh, dirty pool! We don't say that where I come from!" But I do smile and he smiles gently back.

He says softly "I'm too old for her Kate. Too set in my ways. She needs someone younger, someone who'll take her dancing and go to the beach on a weekend. It's not my thing. What would happen if it all went wrong? We couldn't work together again. I have Rule 12 for a reason." His voice trails off again and he stares at the floor.

"And this Rule 12, did you make it up before you bedded Jenny Shepard, or after?"

He glares at me, but I've got my answer. She cut him loose and he keenly felt the loss; she was his partner and they got in deep and heavy. When she left it hurt him, hurt him so much he made up this Rule 12 nonsense to protect _himself_. Well, if he gets to make up rules, so do I. And we are playing by them, because I say we are.

"Gibbs, you are _chicken_. Rule 12 was put in place so _you_ wouldn't get hurt. Well, newsflash – it doesn't work. People meet people at work all the time; they fall in love, out of love, get married, have children, get divorced, meet someone else, remarry, more kids, _another_ divorce – the merry-go-round never stops. The trouble with you is you just won't _try_ again. I said it before – Diane, Linda, and Stephanie – yes, you loved each of them. Each woman was wonderful in her own way but none of them was Shannon, and nobody could fill Kelly's small shoes. But at least you _tried_ with them. Ziva's there, right in front of your nose, and you can't bear to be on the same planet with her. Why? Because it might go wrong? What do you think will happen if it does? You're both adults; both been in relationships before that have failed. It's almost as if you expect her to behave like a teenager and get all angst driven and tearful in the middle of a case. You don't want this because _you_ couldn't deal with the aftermath. You hide your own heartbreak because you think no-one has ever felt the way you do. You're wrong Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs – way wrong. People deal with this every day. Sure, it causes upset, grief, misery and heartache – but eventually it fades. You are both old enough to know how to behave in public; and know that it's ok to fall apart in private. But what gets me, what really makes me _mad_, is you just won't try. The age difference is nothing. Abby's 30 years younger than Ducky – and they're now having a baby! Anybody would think you've got no life in you. Dance if you want to; dance here in the kitchen, down the hall, or on a beach in the middle of the day if the urge takes you. You're not that old. My current boss is, well, he's ancient and he can still samba with the best of them. If there is one thing being dead has taught me it's to take full advantage of life while you're still living it."

He's remained silent throughout my tirade, still staring at the floor. His shoulders are slumped and he feels tired. Again I have the overwhelming urge to touch him, so I re-materialise. He becomes aware that I am standing behind him and he turns. His tears are real and warm against my cheek. His arms are strong as they wrap around me. I feel his breath on my neck and I can hear his heart beating. I have _missed him_. Pulling back I take his face in my hands, gently press my lips to his, and enjoy the sensation. Then I step back from him.

"You have a phone call to make Jethro."

"Maybe she's asleep already" is the soft reply.

"No, she's still awake. It's not too late at night. Give her a call and ask her out."

He looks at me helplessly.

"I'm not good at this" he says.

"I refer you to wives 2, 3, and 4 as well as Jenny Shepard, Hollis Mann and that mysterious redhead who used to pick you up in a convertible when I first started at NCIS. Tony never did find out who she was. You must have done or said _something_ right with all of them!"

His expression is sexily sheepish! "Ok, I'll phone. But not while you're here; it'll put me off."

"I can take a hint." Leaning forward I hug him briefly, wondering if I'll ever stop loving the smell of sawdust mixed with coffee. Then I leave the kitchen and fade away. Well, I fade from _sight_. I stand out in the hall and listen (yes, I still do that too!) as he dials a number.

"Ziva? It's Gibbs. How would you like some ice cream?"

I'm still grinning as I head down to the basement and out to the Long Corridor. As I enter Gabriel is talking to a woman and he signals me to wait, which I do. She walks away and heads through another door and he comes over.

"Re-materialising Kate? You remember the rule – only once more."

"Guess I should keep it for the wedding then" is my smug response

"That's fast!"

"No. Ducky and Abby's wedding. I've still got to persuade her to go through with it, but I'm sure I can. Abby thinks it's just a piece of paper, but Ducky's more conventional and he'll definitely want the baby to have his surname. Then after the wedding I'll have to leave them again …."

He nods. "A deal's a deal Kate. And two years on Earth is hardly any time at all here as you know. And, just for your information, I prefer a foxtrot, which I will gladly show you when the next Big Band gets together and starts playing something I _recognise_ as music."

Distantly I hear the sound of Gibbs' car leaving his driveway and I suddenly can't resist peeking to see where he is. Gabriel rolls his eyes and mutters "women" under his breath and glides back to his office. Gibbs is at the store buying Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream – Caramel Chew Chew and plain Vanilla. I peek in at Ziva – she's running round the flat like a demented dervish straightening cushions, tidying magazines, dragging a brush through her hair, and spritzing on some perfume. Ah, Angelic intervention, there is nothing like it in the world!

From one end of the corridor is the unmistakable sound of music – a band playing Glen Miller's "In the Mood". Gabriel hurries out of his office and sweeps me into his arms and we dance off down the corridor followed by the sound of gentle laughter from someone who's upstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs sits at the table in Ziva's apartment idly swirling ice cream round his plate. Ziva looks anxiously at him; wondering why tonight he's decided to call her.

"Gibbs, are you all right? Can I get you something else? Coffee perhaps?" Her voice is soft but with an anxious edge to it.

He looks up at her and half-smiles. His stomach's in knots, he's got a clanging stress headache and he thinks that if he opens his mouth he'll throw up. "God" he thinks "I haven't been this nervous with a woman since … since my first time." Ok Gunny, not the thing to start thinking about here!

Ziva's at her wits end. He called, brought ice cream, and has barely said a dozen words since he got here. What the hell is going on? Abruptly she gets up and dumps the half-eaten ice cream into the sink and rinses the bowl before putting it in the dishwasher. Standing with her back to him she says: "Why are you here Jethro?"

He rises and walks towards her, stretching out his hand to touch her hair, but stopping short before he does. He can't admit to her that he's scared. Can't say he's feeling more nervous than a teenager on his first date. Despite what Kate said Gibbs is worried. If all this goes pear-shaped, what'll happen?

Ziva finally turns and looks him straight in the eye. Taking a deep breath she says quietly but firmly: "Either you open up and tell me what's happening, or leave." Her hands are balled into fists, her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders are squared – she's in complete command of her outward emotions but is inwardly fighting a battle to keep herself on an even keel. Her mouth has said "Tell Me" but her heart is saying "Please Don't Go".

Gibbs has been carefully studying the pattern on the kitchen blind – and his breath hitches. He doesn't want to leave, but can he tell her how he feels?

I'm standing in the sitting room with Gabriel beside me. I turn to him and say "See, this is what I have to contend with! I wish I could just knock their heads together for being so stupid – why can't I? I suppose _you'll_ start quoting Rules at me if I try to. I'm fed up with this; I'm so frustrated by this pussyfooting around that I'm going to start screaming in a minute. If he doesn't say something nice, something positive, something kind, I promise Gabriel, I'll set fire to that boat of his!" Gabriel looks at me and grins. "You won't set fire to _anything_ Caitlin. However, you may make your displeasure known by a small gesture – and I mean a _small_ one. Now, be a good Angel and get this romance started." He walks quickly through the closed front door and I'm left standing alone. So, still full of rage I quickly move over to the table, levitate the ice cream bowl, move it forward and upend it over Gibbs' head, then drop it into the sink. They both freeze there, horrified. Gibbs growls "Kate, you little …" And I leave the flat, building, country and planet as quickly as I can.

Gibbs stands there with Caramel Chew Chew dripping down his head and a shocked Ziva stares at him; then her mouth begins to twitch and her eyes sparkle. Gibbs glares and the more he glares the harder she tries not to laugh. After a minute, she collapses in a fit of pure glee. Gibbs is vainly trying to remove remnants of chocolate and caramel from his hair and shirt as Ziva holds on to the countertop, still howling with laughter. She catches her breath and gasps "bathroom" and points. He heads off, the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears, and decides the easiest option is to wash his hair and shirt. Stripping off the shirt, he dumps it into the bath, and runs the taps. Grabbing Ziva's shampoo, he drops a bit on the shirt, quickly scrubs it and then sticks his head under the tap before adding more shampoo and washing his hair. A few minutes later he reappears in the sitting room in his T-Shirt and is mollified to note that Ziva's fit of the giggles has passed and she's sitting on the sofa. He's grabbed a coat hanger from the back of the bathroom door and puts the wet shirt on it. He sits beside a now smirking Ziva on the couch and she leans over towards him.

"Mmm, peach and vanilla. Nice combination! However, it's not something I associate Marines with. I would have thought something more along the lines of Gun Oil and Testosterone would be the order of the day. Definitely, more manly!"

They sit looking at each other for a few seconds and suddenly she moves towards him. She slides a hand round the back of his neck, pulls him gently to her and kisses him. There are no bells, whistles or fireworks. It's a soft, gentle kiss and he knows that at the end of it, he'll have to say something. She moves back but keeps her hand on his neck, gently massaging him with her fingers.

He looks into her eyes and with sudden clarity remembers what Kate said about Ziva being here, right under his nose. He wonders fleetingly if it'll work, if they'll be happy, if this one will be forever. Then he places his hand over hers and says simply "I've fallen in love with you Officer David." Her smile lights up his heart.

And, several gazillion miles away, a delighted Guardian Angel does a victory lap around Heaven's biggest library watched by several stunned librarians and Boss No. 2, then levitating to the highest shelf, and sitting, starts to sing:

Perhaps love is like a resting place  
A shelter from the storm  
It exists to give you comfort  
It is there to keep you warm  
And in those times of trouble  
When you are most alone  
The memory of love will bring you home

Perhaps love is like a window  
Perhaps an open door  
It invites you to come closer  
It wants to show you more  
And even if you lose yourself  
And don't know what to do  
The memory of love will see you through

Oh, Love to some is like a cloud  
To some as strong as steel

For some a way of living  
For some a way to feel

And some say love is holding on  
And some say letting go  
And some say love is everything  
And some say they don't know

Perhaps love is like the ocean  
Full of conflict, full of pain  
Like a fire when it's cold outside  
Thunder when it rains  
If I should live forever  
And all my dreams come true  
My memories of love will be of you

And some say love is holding on  
And some say letting go

And some say love is everything  
Some say they don't know

Perhaps love is like the ocean  
Full of conflict, full of pain  
Like a fire when it's cold outside  
Or thunder when it rains  
If I should live forever  
And all my dreams come true  
My memories of love will be of you.

I've always been able to carry a tune, and although the song's normally sung as a duet, I still make it sound pretty good. At the end, I descend back to the floor of the library and dropping a low curtsey to the librarians, and blowing a cheeky kiss towards Gabriel I head off – towards Ducky's house where I know he and Abby will be "discussing" the non-existent wedding plans. I'm on a roll! Maybe I can get this organised too. All it'll need is a little coaxing; a little give and take; a little persuasion; a little miracle. But, I'm hopeful. After all, I think wickedly, Tony and Tim are going to look fabulous in the matching bridesmaids outfits I have in mind! But, of course, they'll have to wear flat shoes … both of them are tall enough without adding heels to the peach satin I've been considering. With this cheeky plan in mind I appear in the Long Corridor, and open a door which will lead me to Ducky's home. I stand in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs and as I look up I see Abby coming down. Her hair's down, she's makeup free, and wrapped in a blue silk robe. She cocks her head sideways and says with a grin: "Go away Kate. This is _definitely_ not the time for a visit. Ducky and I are busy … you know??"

For the record, Angels _can and do_ blush to the roots of their hair. I should have checked before I came through. Next time I will. Waggling my fingers in goodbye I leave the way I came. I can't visit Ducky and Abbs; I definitely don't want to go to Ziva's (Gibbs is still there); so, where to go? With a malicious grin I realise – Tony! He'd _love_ a visit from me especially as all he's doing is watching Magnum re-runs! This could prove to be an interesting evening.


	7. Chapter 7

DiNozzo has crashed out on the sofa, and is snoring like a walrus. The TV is humming in the background – Magnum is finished and there's an old black-and-white film playing. Just when I think I'm going to have to spend this night alone, he snorts loudly and wakes himself.

Some things improve with age – Tony's personal habits are not one of them. The coffee table's littered with old pizza boxes, beer cans and a couple of days worth of sandwich and sweet wrappers. The place looks like the refuse men have made a _delivery_, rather than a collection – and, it smells a bit too. He's still blinking and half awake, so to get him fully conscious and focussed I wave my hand and the windows open wide. He shoots up off the sofa and looks guiltily around, hissing "Kate, is that you?"

"Nope. It's Joan of Arc and she's going to incinerate this dump. Phew, what a stench! Don't tell me, Ducky's run out of autopsy space and you're storing cadavers for him? This place smells like a men's room – and a _public_ one at that. Get with the programme Tony. If you want a lady-friend to come back here, you have to make an effort. Bug free, clean and tidy will help. Wall to wall cockroaches and last week's laundry lying in a heap will not improve your sex life."

He can see me in my ethereal form. To explain a bit better I'm sort of see-through. It's still me, but it's a subtle way around the re-materialisation rule. And, obviously, he can hear me too.

He looks rather embarrassed, standing there in his Simpson's boxers, white(ish) T-Shirt and mismatched socks.

"Get me a bin liner Tony and I'll help you clear up. And the windows will stay _open_ till it's all finished."

"Oh, so now I have a ghost who wants to play housekeeper?" His voice is sarcastic and quite snarly. He hasn't looked _at_ me; instead he focuses on something to the right of my shoulder. I turn around and see nothing except a blank wall. For some reason he's angry and I have to find out why.

"What's up Tony?"

"Nothing."

"Heard it before. Didn't believe it then, don't believe it now."

He's crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me with a mutinous expression. He's truly pissed off at me, and not bothering to hide it.

"It's because I'm back, isn't it?"

"Oh no. Dead colleagues visit here all the time. Had a friend I worked with in Baltimore drop by only last night to catch up. Downed a couple of beers, ate pizza. You know what it's like – just guys together – talked about women and strip clubs, Spring Break – usual stuff."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise me coming back would affect you so much. Abby just spoke as if I hadn't been gone. Ziva seemed to accept it. Tim was quiet but that's just him anyway. Even Gibbs got over it quickly. Only you and Ducky seemed to be thrown by it."

"Thrown by it??" He's gone from pissed off to raging in a nanosecond. "Thrown by it?? You _died_. I was at your funeral. I said my goodbyes then. Kate, I came back here afterwards and I sat on that sofa and I cried. I haven't cried like that since I was a kid. I missed you so much. I felt I'd failed you, let you down in the worst possible way. It took months before the nightmares ended. Gibbs almost fired me because I couldn't concentrate but Jenny stepped in and saved my ass …" He breaks off unable to continue as he remembers that she too is dead.

"I know you were crying. I heard you."

He looks at me, this time fully concentrating on my face. "I still miss you. You were a great friend and a brilliant partner and even though I didn't say it when you were here, I do love you."

Now I am the one who's close to tears. I always imagined Dragons landing in Delaware before he said _that_.

We both pull off rather half-hearted smiles. "Forgiven?" I ask. He nods.

"Grab a bin liner Tony. We have to evict the cockroaches." He groans aloud; housework is not his forte. Normally his current lady friend lends a hand, but he's "in between" at the moment so I'll have to do instead.

"We can make this fun" I tell him. His raised eyebrows are all the answer I'm getting.

"Ever watch I Dream of Jeannie?"

"Occasionally".

"Open the bag and hold it out."

He does so and, mimicking Jeannie I fold my arms and nod my head. The trash speeds its way into the bin liner, which ties itself and moves to the front door. The sofa cushions plump up; magazines are straightened; the sink fills with water and the dishes begin to wash. Just out of sight the bed is being remade with fresh linen and the laundry gathers itself together in a tidy bundle ready for washing. In under 30 seconds the flat is clean and presentable – good enough for an Angel to visit on occasion.

Tony stands there open-mouthed at this. Then he looks me up and down and giving a patented DiNozzo the Predator grin says: "A sexy Mary Poppins; just what every house needs!" I throw a cushion at his head in response; then making a kissing motion I leave him and return to my home. Looking down at my friends I see them all getting on with life. A bit of me is still sad, but mostly I'm happy for them. Ducky and Abby are in bed; he reading a medical journal and she curled up like a kitten beside him. Every now and then he puts the magazine down and kisses her head or shoulder and she smiles up at him. One hand rests gently on her stomach and he's pleased that their son (because I know it will be a boy!) is sleeping quietly inside his mother.

Tim is at his old typewriter, crashing away at his latest "Thom E Gemcity" novel, which will no doubt be as big a hit as Deep Six was. Gentle jazz comes from the old record player, an unlit pipe clamped between his teeth. Lisa wanders in from the bedroom wearing nothing but a Redskins shirt and a sleepy smile, grabs a glass of water and heads back. Tim stops typing, removes the paper from the machine and goes through to join her.

Ziva and Gibbs are still on the sofa. The room's quiet and she's leaning back against his shoulder, hands entwined in his lap, breathing gently. It's a peaceful scene. Occasionally he whispers something in her ear and she smiles and turns back for a kiss. She knows he won't stay tonight; this is too new for both of them. But the night will come when he will stay.

Tony's asleep on the sofa. The TV's still on and he wakes as he hears theme music he recognises. Becoming fully awake he sits grinning as I Dream of Jeannie rolls.

Reluctantly, I let them go. A few minutes up here will pass before dawn breaks on Earth. I mentally tick off what I have to do today; I have to speak to Tim, alone; and then persuade Abby that marriage isn't an outdated, antiquated system designed to turn women into drudges. Humming the theme of I Dream of Jeannie I head off in search of a good place to watch the sunrise. Just as dawn is about to creep over the horizon, I'm sitting quietly on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I'm not alone. Gabriel's off to the side watching it too; as are several dozen other Angels. Mortals are there too, watching the city slowly awake. Suddenly I shiver and Gabriel comes quickly towards me. His expression is concerned, but not for me. Standing a few feet to my right is a woman of long years. She's holding a photograph and quietly weeping. I thought I was shivering because of her tears, but on hearing a noise behind me, I realise with shock that Death has materialised. Gabriel takes my arm and quickly leads me away. The woman quietly collapses just as the first rays of dawn break through. I turn back and look at the scene. Death is dressed in a suit. He's not a skeleton carrying a scythe – he looks _normal_. He gently touches a finger to her head and she stands up, still holding her photograph. They walk up the stairs of the memorial and disappear into the building.

"I don't remember that happening." I say quietly.

"No-one does Caitlin. The memory of dying is too painful for a human to comprehend. He'll be gentle with her, take her where she needs to go. In time, she'll come to us, just as you did."

The woman's mortal remains lie at the Memorial. A small crowd gathers around her and cell phones are pulled out and calls made. I look back at her and send a prayer heavenwards. Then briefly hugging Gabriel I head off to begin the day.


	8. Chapter 8

Sometimes there is a down side to being an angel. You can't get a tan, go shopping, ski or play roulette. But, right now, my main bug is I cannot slap Abby, _hard_. I mean, she's pregnant, and I couldn't hit a pregnant woman – right? Still doesn't make the feeling that I _want to_ go away. For the last hour she's been in "caffeine free" mode – worse than Abbs after 8 Caf-Pow! and crank up the volume by a factor of 5. It's all "I can't" – from getting married to booking a manicure. I have asked the On High for extra strength, more power, help, and guidance or failing all of the above some migraine pills and a week's leave in the Bahamas but so far nothing. All I can do is stand here watching and listening as Abby rants herself into hoarseness.

"I mean, what's the point? It's just a bit of paper. I am _totally_ committed to Ducky and I will be for the rest of my life, so why spoil it by getting married? Have you any idea Kate what the divorce rates are for the USA? It's absolutely mind-blowing. Besides is way too late for me to do virginal white and I would hate anything formal." She pauses for breath – probably the first in 15 minutes – and I take my chance to speak.

"Abby. You love Ducky; he loves you. Together you've created a child. Now no-one says you _must_ get married but I do think that Ducky would prefer it if your relationship was publicly acknowledged. And, besides, despite his love of Plastic Death, I really think he's a traditionalist at heart. He wants to get married; wants you to be Mrs Mallard, and wants his child to have his name as well. You don't have to go for the "veil with full meringue" look; you don't even have to get married in Church. All you need are a couple of witnesses and an afternoon away from NCIS. Or, maybe something small at the house? The garden's beautiful and it'd be a perfect backdrop – you could wear whatever colour you want and have yards of uncontrollable children as your attendants, or just Ziva. But, I know you're already committed – well, the baby coming along is a definite indicator! – however, I do think a wedding of some sort would really cement things.

Looking at Abby I can see that the reserve is cracking. I reiterate the point about marriage not meaning a life of domestic drudgery and tell her that I'll be back later. She's sitting at her workstation and nods quietly – she's definitely thinking about it! So, next stop is Ducky downstairs in Autopsy. I know from listening that he's not busy – thankfully there's no-one needing his kind ministrations – so I feel safe visiting.

He's in his office drinking tea and looking at a small ring box on his desk. As he looks up he sees the ethereal me and inhales sharply. Then he cracks a slow smile and beckons me in.

I peer over the top of the box and within is a beautiful emerald-cut solitaire diamond ring. It's easily 6 carats and is set in a platinum band. He looks at me. "It's for Abby. Do you think she'll like it? It belonged to my Mother. She always wanted my wife to have it …" His voice disappears as he recalls his last, heated conversation with Abby on the subject of matrimony. The one where she said it was outdated, old fashioned and merely a convenience. After all, what was wrong with the baby having _her_ name; or both their names?? No matter how hard Ducky tried, he couldn't persuade her that marriage was a good idea. She'd stomped off in the huff and left him to his Sherlock Holmes and decent whisky. Retreating to the sitting room Abby had cranked up Brain Matter to its loudest volume after she put headphones on and sat there a quivering mass of barely concealed fury. Marriage – pah!

I smile at Ducky. "I think I may have given her something to think about regarding your conversation yesterday".

"Oh, you heard us"

"Ducky. Even the guys _downstairs_ heard you." I point my finger down towards H*ll.

He looks upset and I quickly give him an outline of what I'd been saying to Abbs. "I honestly believe she's _thinking_ about it. I mean really _thinking_. It's more than just a piece of paper. And I've gone on at length about how much it means to _you_. I'm sure she'll be more amenable now. I think the whole baby/wedding thing was getting out of hand especially as she's under the impression that you want the full bells, whistles and Marine Corps band as well." Ducky looks a little crestfallen at this – he'd envisaged a classic wedding and it seemed like _his_ dreams would be dashed.

"Caitlin, all I want is to marry her. But, if she wants something quieter with just a few people in attendance then I'll happily bow to her wishes. She can have it as quiet or as grand as she pleases. All I ask is that she turns up and says "I do" at the right moment."

"Well then Ducky, I suggest you go upstairs and present that ring and ask her again."

He smiles at me and my heart lifts. This time she _will_ say yes. The thought of being the centre of attention was making her balk. She'll be fine with a quiet, intimate wedding and a few close friends around her. No fuss, no bother – a few lovely photographs, no more than 20 people – then off somewhere quiet for a short honeymoon. Perfect!

I hear the lift ping and turn. Gibbs comes into Autopsy looking for Ducky, but spies me instead. He strides across.

"Caitlin Todd, I want a word with you!"

I give him my best "brighter than toothpaste" smile, which doesn't reach my eyes. Even though I'm dead I still find him vaguely intimidating.

"Did you have a nice breakfast Gibbs? I hear Ziva makes marvellous omelettes." Ducky's eyebrows are reaching towards his hairline as his eyes glance between Gibbs and me. "Ziva?"

"Oh, didn't you hear? Well, he took ice cream over last night and ended up staying the night. Do you know, if I was alive, I'd buy shares in Ben and Jerry's – it seems to be a popular way to connect with the right person …" Gibbs' expression is priceless – caught between anger at being outed by a dead colleague and pleasure that he's snared a beauty like Ziva. Gibbs looks down and sees the box in Ducky's hand, which he opens. "It's beautiful" he murmurs "she'll love it".

"I know" Ducky replies "I have it on excellent authority that she will". And winking at me he disappears out of Autopsy towards Forensics and Abbs, leaving me with a quiet and thoughtful Gibbs.

"Well, am I forgiven for dumping ice cream on your head?" I ask.

"Only just" he smiles. "That was a favourite shirt of mine. But I am glad you did it. I just needed a kick in the right direction Kate. I was so afraid after all the other screw-ups I'd made that this would go wrong. I still can't quite believe how much I feel for her, and quite frankly I'm amazed that she feels the same way about me. I guess I'd always ignored the spark between us, hoping that it'd go away and I wouldn't face the prospect of loss again …"

I interrupt. "Why prospect of loss? Why not gain instead? Think of all you could have – a real home again, not just a place to build a boat and change your clothes; children – if both of you want them; a loving committed relationship. Come on Jethro, think a bit more positively. Don't go into life with Ziva thinking what can go wrong – start thinking of what's right instead. This time it _will_ be different because you love her purely for being Ziva and nothing else – she doesn't look, think, walk, talk or even sound like Shannon – and that's where the difference is. No more identikit redheads for you. Stick with this brunette and get happy!"

He nods and smiles gently. I've convinced him. I've convinced her. The lift pings again and out steps Ducky and Abby, hand in hand, and behind them are Tim, Ziva, Tony and Jimmy. Suddenly, I feel it, I actually feel the love that's around me, and it's warm, all-encompassing and bright. Then lights in the room begin to shimmer and change, I almost feel faint as my head starts buzzing. I try to grab the table to keep myself upright but my hand passes clean through it. Abbs is grinning and showing off her engagement ring. I hear her say that they've decided on a quiet wedding at the house in 4 weeks time. But she sounds far away. Abbs looks at me and smiles but I can't seem to say anything. For a few brief seconds the world turns the wrong way on its axis and then rights itself.

Tim now looking directly at me and he says something, but I am no longer capable of understanding what it is. His expression is more puzzled than worried and it draws attention to my predicament. Gibbs has hunkered down beside me, his hand stretched towards my head. I'm now on all-fours on the floor, trying to get myself to function but nothing seems to work. As I raise my head I am aware that the scene's frozen in time and Gabriel appears. He bends down and raises me up, concern clearly written on his face.

"Caitlin, are you alright?" he asks.

"No. Feel dreadful. Bad headache and I can't seem to balance properly either. What's wrong Gabriel?"

"I need to take you home briefly. We can't be here just now." He grasps my elbow firmly and almost yanks me through the Autopsy room wall. As soon as I am away from the Autopsy room I feel immediately better. A few deep breaths later (though I don't really need them) I am back to myself. "What's happening Gabriel? Why did I feel so awful?"

"Angels are used to death on a person by person basis. That room is a receptacle of the dead and too many people have been there, including you. We each leave a tiny echo of ourselves when we die – it can't be seen or felt by the living but Angels are particularly sensitive to it. It's the same with mass disasters – for weeks afterwards we Angels can be disorientated and distressed until the world settles back down again; we feel things on a different level Caitlin, but we still feel. You felt the echoes of those who'd passed through Ducky's rooms – but most of all you felt your own echo, and that too of Ari."

My eyes open wide at his name. I haven't uttered it since either of us died. "Is he … is he _with us_ Gabriel?" There is a slight panic in my voice. His eyes are sombre but he shakes his head, not voicing what we both know and where we know he now resides. Instead, he waves his hand and time moves on in Autopsy. I stand on the other side of the wall watching the hugs all round, hearing the laughter and seeing the smiles. Ducky and Abby are standing hand-in-hand, Jethro has his arm around Ziva's shoulder and is smiling down at her. Tim, Tony and Jimmy are confused and bemused. Ducky and Abby they understand – but Gibbs and Ziva? How and when the hell did _that_ happen?

Hell, as we know, had absolutely nothing to do with it!


	9. Chapter 9

Tony's sitting at his desk and staring into space. The rest of the team hasn't arrived yet and there's only one thing on his mind – Ziva and Gibbs. He's analysed it, thought about it, digested the information and pondered and _he still doesn't get it_. She's years younger than him, trigger tempered, multi-lingual and a great cook. He's on the wrong side of 50, builds boats in his basement, lives on takeout and mainlines caffeine. Tony is just confused about this – what do they _see_ in each other? And how long's it been going on? His head begins to ache with the tension.

The lift pings and Tim steps out followed by Ziva and Gibbs. Tim drops his backpack and heads for the men's room; Ziva gives Gibbs a brief smile and they split apart and go to their respective desks. Tony looks from one to another and both stare back at him. Ziva is smirking; Gibbs is his usual unreadable self. Ziva raises an eyebrow at Tony, willing him to ask the question that dancing on the end of his tongue. He opens his mouth, but catches sight of Gibbs' face, and quickly shuts it again. Suddenly the contents of his desk require immediate attention and he ducks down and starts pulling folders, papers and miscellaneous items out. Gibbs turns towards Ziva, winks at her, and starts up his computer.

Ten minutes later the whole team are seated at their desks working on reports when the phone on Gibbs' desk rings. After a brief conversation he hangs up and addresses Tim.

"Pull up the file on Lt Cdr Adam Kane, McGee. Put his picture on the plasma."

Tim does as he asks and the photo flashes onto the screen.

"Lt Cdr Kane?" says Ziva. "I am not familiar with that name."

"I don't remember it either" say Tim as he reads from the file – "Ended his deployment on the Seahawk in August 2005. Home for 3 weeks leave – lived in Georgetown with his wife, no children – then due to join the Coral Sea. Left home in September 2005 and hasn't been seen since. Bank accounts and credit cards show no activity. He just vanished." Flicking his eyes towards Gibbs, Tim asks: "Has he turned up Boss".

"A bit of him has." A nine year old playing baseball in a local park went to fetch the ball in the undergrowth and found a head. The Commander's dog tags were wedged in his mouth."

"How's the kid?" asked Tony. "He ok?"

"_She_ is scared witless" replied Gibbs. "Threw up, had hysterics and passed out. Paramedics said she was suffering from shock and took her to the local hospital. Her parents are with her. Ziva, take McGee and go talk to the girl – her name's Karen (Kiki) Willis. DiNozzo, get the sedan – we're visiting the widow."

The team split and head out and for a few minutes the bullpen's eerily quiet. I listen for a few seconds; Ducky and Jimmy have a "client" in Autopsy and are busy. Abby is in her lab, fighting against morning sickness, but managing to win this round. I am alone here. Nostalgically I walk round "my" area, casually looking at the desks and standing by Gibbs' chair. I wave my hand over his desk and a small bunch of lily of the valley appear in a glass vase on top of the paperwork he's left behind. Smiling, I head home – I need some time in my favourite place - the library.

In a few seconds I am standing outside the door and then I enter. As libraries go, it's amazing. It has no specific size, expanding and contracting as it has to. The number of floors vary as well – sometimes a single story, sometimes higher than a skyscraper but it contains copies of every book ever written on the planet. It also contains easy chairs and sofas, numerous fireplaces and enough coffee dispensers to rival Starbucks. The library is quiet today, barely a dozen of us visiting. The view today is of a beach – a picture-perfect outlook of talcum-soft sand, palm trees and a glass-smooth green sea. I settle down in an easy chair, with a coffee in my hand and my feet sunk into the sand. One of the librarians comes forward and asks me which books I would like. I think for a minute then smile up at her:

"I'd like The Time Traveller's Wife, please". She nods and the book appears on a table beside me. The librarian bows slightly towards me and quietly leaves. I contemplate the scene, sip my coffee and start to read. Even Angels need down-time, and I spend mine here. I've read a lot in the years since I died and I never tire of _this_ library. There are several more dotted around, but this one has become my favourite. It has an intimacy the others don't have and I love the way it can change it's outlook – sun-kissed beach today and mountain views tomorrow. I read on, but keep an ear out for familiar voices. After a time I find my eyes beginning to close and just before they close completely I am aware of someone removing the book from my hands, placing my coffee mug on the table and putting a blanket over me. The sun dips beneath the horizon and I give in and sleep. I am warm, comfortable and at peace. As I sleep time on Earth marches on – two days pass before I awake. It's early on Earth, around 6.00am and I realise with a bit of a jolt that of all the people I've visited with, Tim is the one I haven't really spoken to. Aware that he'll be awaking soon I decide to pay a call.

His apartment is the reflection of himself – clean, neat and tidy. The jazz records he loves are perfectly arranged; his typewriter's covered and the sofa's comfy. He's in the shower when I arrive and I resist the urge to 'visit' him in the bathroom! I stand quietly waiting for him to finish and he comes out a few minutes later. His eyes widen when he sees the ethereal me and a second's worth of panic flits over his face and he practically squeaks my name.

"Kkkaate" he says

"Hi Tim. Nice to see you again."

He just smiles – that soft gentle smile that I love and miss.

"I've spoken to everyone but you. So, here I am."

Tim looks down at himself and blushes deeply. He's exited the bathroom in nothing more than a towel and he turns around almost expecting his clothes to materialise. I smile back – "I'll wait here whilst you change." He almost bolts across the sitting room into his bedroom.

A few minutes later he's back – but still obviously perturbed about having a dead woman roaming round his apartment. I can't help but laugh at his rather frightened expression and I tell him so. Finally, he accepts my appearance and sits down on the sofa. I take a chair and, leaning forward, wait for him to ask the question I know is sitting at the forefront of his mind.

"Are they alright?". His voice is quiet, almost timid.

"Yes. They're at peace; the pain's gone and the fear with it. They're together."

He looks up and smiles shyly. Tim's Grandparents were the centre of his world and their deaths just a few weeks apart shook him to the core and deeply affected him. Now that he knows they are still together, pain-free and at peace, his healing will begin in earnest.

"So" he muses "Ziva and Gibbs. I didn't see that one coming!"

"If it's any consolation, neither did Tony" I reply. "He's really having trouble getting his head round that. He's thinking in pictures and, of course, being Tony, they're in colour and mostly pornographic. He'd better be careful though – if Gibbs even _suspects_ he's thinking that way about either him or Ziva, he will be turned into kitty food!" Tim laughs out loud at that.

It's nice being back with him. The fun is still there, as is the quick wit and gentle charm. Tim was easily the third brother I never had – and the best behaved of the bunch too.

"Do you think Gibbs and Ziva will marry?" he asks.

"Yes. And in the not too distant future too. I don't imagine there will be a long engagement. Ziva's made no bones about wanting a family …."

Tim blushes slightly at my comment. Unlike Tony, he doesn't _think_ about what goes on. He merely presumes it does and doesn't ask for details.

I am aware that time has marched forward and Tim should be leaving for work. So, reluctantly I say goodbye, but assure him that I'll be at Ducky and Abby's wedding, and will see him again.

Talking of weddings, I remember that I'd promised Gabriel I'd update him about Abby and Ducky; and also about Gibbs and Ziva. A bit reluctantly I leave Tim's lovely apartment and head back.


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel is in his office – and the view through the picture window has changed; instead of the frozen Canadian lake it's wheat fields. For a moment I pause to take in the sights – it reminds me of my grandparents house when I was a child. Recalling a memory I see acres of rolling wheat moving in the breeze, home-made butter on a blue dish, freshly roasted chicken and potatoes … I can almost _taste_ the meal, and I sense rather than see Gabriel grinning widely.

"It's a good memory to have Kate. I especially like the roast chicken." He pats his rounded stomach in appreciation.

"No-one did roast potatoes and chicken like Grandma" I said. "It could make …."

"Angels weep?"

I laugh aloud – "Yes, it probably could. At least, weep with the memory of it."

I stare back out over the moving wheat fields and watch a couple of birds take flight from a hidden nest and race off towards the horizon.

"How are Gibbs and Ziva?" Gabriel asks.

Tearing my eyes away from the stunning scene I look at him and smile. "Seems to be going well. She's helping Abby organise the wedding just now, but she's spending time with Gibbs too. It looks like there will be another one to go to."

Gabriel fixes me with a steely gaze. "Remember the deal Kate – two years. You'll be able to see the wedding, but not attend. You've skirted the rules and bent them to almost breaking point, but not this time. You stay here while Ziva and Gibbs marry. He (Gabriel points his finger upstairs) will not be happy if you even _try_ to disobey him, so don't."

I knew Gabriel would give me this lecture, but I just wanted to see if I could swing it my way. Now that I know I am definitely being watched, it won't be possible, but at least I'll be able to watch.

But, Abby and Ducky's wedding comes first and it's now barely 3 weeks away. I have some plans of my own and I need to discuss them with Gabriel.

____________________________

The team meet back at the bullpen a couple of hours later. Ducky is in autopsy with Jimmy trying to find out how the head of Lt Cdr Kane was detached from the rest of him. Abby's in Forensics sorting out blood samples and some fibres that were found. Gibbs has gone on a coffee run, Tim's trying to eat a sandwich and Tony and Ziva have engaged temporarily in a rubber band war. Nice to know some things never change; rubber band wars were part of office routine when I worked with Tony. It's good that he's consistent … even if he is consistently badly behaved!

Ducky calls up. He has news. The war's forgotten, sandwich remnants are binned and all 3 troop down to Autopsy. Abby decides to visit Ducky and follows the team into the Autopsy suite. It was not a good idea. One look at the head sitting on the table and Abby turns green and vomits spectacularly into a bin that Jimmy has thoughtfully grabbed for her. Temporarily halting his explanation to Tim, Tony and Ziva, Ducky removes Abby to his office and lays her down over the small sofa. A groan escapes her lips as she curls on her side. Just then, Gibbs enters and comes straight to the office. He kneels down beside his Lab Bat and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"You ok, Abbs?"

She crooks a finger and he leans in closer.

"No-one told me I'd feel _this _sick" is the whispered response. Gibbs places a delicate kiss on her forehead. "It'll get better Abby; promise". Jimmy appears and thoughtfully places the rinsed-out bin beside Abby's head. She murmurs a soft "thank you" and her eyes slide shut. Gibbs stands his knee protests loudly at the sudden movement, and he walks out of the office back into the main suite. Ducky raises an eyebrow and Gibbs gives him a sympathetic shrug – there's not much _any _man can do about morning sickness except be as supportive as he can be. Ducky nods in response, his eyes flicking to the office. Gibbs mouths "asleep" and Ducky smiles softly – neither of them slept much last night, Abby's restlessness kept both of them awake.

Lt Cdr Kane now becomes the focus of everyone's attention.

In a scant few minutes the team learn that his earthly remains were deep frozen. His head was removed ("possibly to necessitate easier disposal" lectures Ducky) and it's more than likely the rest of him is also in pieces. Ziva and Tim add their piece about the unfortunate child who found the head and Ziva comments that there is a creek nearby to where the remains were found. Gibbs and DiNozzo relate the interview with the widow that was. She has now moved on, proclaimed herself "much happier" and lives in a farmhouse near Little Creek Park, with her younger non-military partner. She bought the farmhouse with the proceeds of the Georgetown house and declares that "country life just suits her complexion". Tony puts her excellent complexion down to an excellent plastic surgeon. Ducky muses on the likelihood of the remaining remains remaining in the river. This precipitates a groan from the office and, just when Ducky is about to ask whether it's his puns that make Abby feel ill, or if it's her pregnancy, he and the rest of the team are treated to the stereo version of vomiting at level 10. Abby staggers out of the office, halts, sees the head again and spins on her feet. She misses the bin this time, and bursts into tears. Ducky indicates that Jethro etc should leave while he administers to his intended. Gibbs endorses this and, grabbing a firm hold of a now-wobbling and pale Tim, they leave rapidly for the elevator.

The former Mrs Kane becomes the focus of their attention when they get to the bullpen. Gibbs didn't like her and Tony thought she was "evil". Ducky's information has indicated that Lt Cdr Kane died sometime after his shore-leave ended and his remains had been kept frozen until recently. He wants to know why they've suddenly appeared now; and what's the story with the dog tags? Tim, now looking a little less pale, starts keying information rapidly into the computer. Up flashes the information on Kane's last phone call, last credit card usage, and last cash withdrawal – and, not surprisingly, they're all on the last official day of his leave. Then, everything falls silent. There is no bank or credit card traffic – even his email log shows that although he received mail, he certainly didn't answer it. Ziva muses that "the wife did it" in order to be with her younger lover. It's all pure speculation, but Gibbs is inclined towards Ziva's way of thinking. Barely 3 months after he disappears, the "widow" puts the house up for sale and moves into the new place with the new man. A younger, attractive, well-groomed, _expensive_ man. And, now that her husband will be officially declared dead, she'll be entitled to his pension and benefits too. No more will she be regarded as the wife of an AWoL Navy Officer – she's a bone fide widow, and she'll get the bells and whistles. Something churns in Gibbs' gut – something sour and unhealthy. If she killed him, or was complicit in his death, he'll have her. If she wasn't, if she was his widow (he didn't think she was grieving) then there was nothing he could do. They needed to find out where the body was stored and why it was moved. First stop was the new owners of the Georgetown house – he'd start with them.

He drives. DiNozzo's sitting beside him, hanging on to the door handle and trying not to squawk in fear as Gibbs' throws the car round corners and hurtles as speed down the road. Ziva and Tim are quietly sitting in the back – Ziva's calm and relaxed; Gibbs' driving does not worry her. Tim on the other hand has turned a dreadful shade of green and is trying hard not to throw up over him, Ziva, the car and worst of all, Gibbs. Mercifully, the speed that Gibbs drives at has the team at the former Kane residence quickly and Tim gratefully leaves the car almost before it comes to a complete halt. Gibbs merely raises an eyebrow at Tim's fast exit; Tony is silent and Ziva pats his army sympathetically. All 4 proceed to the house.

The exterior of the house has barely changed since Mrs Kane sold it; the interior is another story. Walls and floorboards are exposed and lovingly looked after. The garish colours Mrs Kane so loved have been replaced by more muted, neutral tones. The sitting room is comfortable but elegant. The house is now owned by former American Ambassador Richard Leitz and his wife Ruth. They remember Mrs Kane well. At least, Mrs Leitz does. What she has to say is interesting and not in a good way. Mrs Leitz prepares coffee and brings the tray through with Ziva's help. The group is gathered in the sitting room and Gibbs can't help but admire the hand-built book shelves that sit on each side of a grand fireplace. It turns out that Mr Ambassador ("please, call me Rick") is a closet "wood man". Like Gibbs, it's his passion, aide to concentration, release and hobby. Unlike Gibbs he actually has time now to spend at it. But, it's Mrs Leitz who holds the stage. She gets herself comfortable and begins the tale of the House Sale from Hell.

"Rick was coming to the end of his tenure in Japan and we wanted somewhere central in Washington that had space. We've 2 children, both married with families of their own, and we wanted to be able to put them up when they visited. The size of this house was just perfect for us. But, Mrs Kane! My, that woman was horrible!" Ruth Leitz stops briefly to sip her coffee and draw breath. "She was dreadful. I've been around a lot of cold women in my time – but she took the prize. The only thing you'd get from her was frostbite. She was rude, nasty, imperious … it took me a while to realise that it was _her husband_ who'd gone missing. Now, I didn't expect her to open up and give intimate details of their life, but I remember seeing a picture on a bureau over there (she waves her hand towards the gap between the two doors) and I asked her if her husband was deployed. She stood over there (pointing to the rug in front of the fireplace) and said that he had been, but was on shore leave. Was due to take up post on his next ship – and she couldn't remember the name! I thought that was amazing; imagine, not knowing where he was supposed to go! She dismissed him out of hand – and that photograph was the only one of him on display in this house. She showed us round every room, including into her bedroom, and Rick noted that there was another photograph at her bedside; and it wasn't her husband. I thought maybe it was her son, but according to what I read in the Post, they had no children. He was handsome – blond hair, green eyes, quite athletic from what I remember …"

She stops momentarily and Ziva pipes up.

"Mrs Leitz. Was there a large freezer in the kitchen when you viewed the house?"

Gibbs' eyebrows raise – he was going to ask the same question.

"Yes dear, there was" came the reply. "However, according to Mrs Kane it had broken down between us viewing the house and completing the sale, so she replaced it at her expense. It turns out the replacement was faulty, and we were back and forward trying to get it fixed. Eventually the store gave us a new one, but Mrs Kane was apoplectic about it. She said she'd measured the space specifically and only a certain model would do – and the store sent something different. It's left a gap, but we don't mind.

By now Gibbs' eyebrows have practically disappeared into his hairline. After seeking permission from the Leitz's, they head for the kitchen. Sure enough the large silver-coloured freezer doesn't fill the space. There's a foot-wide gap between the edge of the freezer and the wall and Mrs Leitz has stacked a couple of wine racks in the available space. Carefully removing the contents and the racks they slowly start to manoeuvre the freezer.

Just then Rick Leitz comes into the kitchen. Seeing the team struggle with the freezer he immediately moves in to help; gently nudging Ziva out of the way. Within a couple of minutes all 4 men (and a quietly fuming Ziva) are standing in the kitchen peering round the freezer. All see the same thing – a small brown stain on the floor. Spinning on her heel, Ziva heads back to the front door and picks up the NCIS case. By the time she's back in the kitchen she has in her hand a swab. Squeezing past Rick and Tony, she leans over and gently rubs the swab over the stain. The unmistakable sound of a head slap is heard and standing up, she's treated to the sight of Tony ruefully rubbing the back of his head and gently blushing former Ambassador. Tim's grinning. He too was looking directly at Ziva's butt, but he was smart enough not to get caught! Adding a few drops of liquid from her test kit, the team and Rick watch as the tip of the swab turns pink to show the presence of human blood.


End file.
